The Dawn of War
by me malum
Summary: Aurora Pax, through no fault of her own, wasn't a typical femme. It impacted just about every part of her life from the moment she was sparked. Genderbending: femme!Optimus Prime.
1. Mistaken

This started as a vague notion and became a monstrosity I have focussed on for the last ten days writing. It was originally intended as an 'Inspired' oneshot but became much more- I put a lot of myself into this fic, so would really appreciate any feedback anyone has on it.

Has obvious AU elements, set emphatically pre-G1, some ignorance of canon and filling in blanks as I saw fit, general spoilers for the canon I did know (very little, tell truth). Starts off essay-like but following chapters are more interactive.

**Disclaimer**- heh, I wish.

**Warnings**- genderbending- Orion Pax= Aurora Pax, Optimus Prime= ..?, slight gender confusion, mild language, English spelling, multiple pairings- ending up fem!Optimus/Megatron, but this is not a romance fic- mentioning lesbian robot relationships, minor OC usage.

(anyone who picks up the references behind femme!Optimus's names gets my eternal devotion and a cyber-cookie.)

Think that's it. With that done, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Her creators had thought they'd been granted a mech. Her first frame had, accordingly, been a masculine one, from the physical components to the subroutines in her processor. Even though her memories of those first vorns were patchy and corrupted, the impression it left on her spark was permanent.

Her second frame _was_ a femme model- the most high-tech her creators could afford, in an attempt to correct any possible damage from their mistake. It didn't work out very well. She damaged herself more times in those fifty vorns than in every other part of her life put together until the War broke out. She'd been unable to adjust her thought patterns to the alien paths of a feminine CPU; she frequently forgot that a femme's frame wasn't designed to the same specifications as a mech's.

They tried something different for her third frame- a mech's processor in a femme's body. The constructors had looked at her creators strangely, but acquiesced when the topic of their payment was addressed handsomely. They thought that if she could process in the same manner as she was used to, it would help her remember her new limits. They weren't entirely wrong, but she was still the most accident prone youngling in the city, a fact often joked about in the local medical centre.

The fourth and final frame, as tradition dictated, was supposed to be the last formal gift from a creator to their creation- their Coming of Age present. She rejected that idea quickly; her creators looked crestfallen until she explained that she wanted to design it herself, but if they could have it constructed for her that would still be welcome. She'd been drawing provisional sketches over the last few orns, testing out the sensory reactions and subroutines that worked best for her in the current frame, and starting anew with those she found lacking. The finished product, drawn in full technical detail, made her creators freeze for moments before understanding passed through their optics. They nodded, unable to conceal the slight sadness in their expressions, but assured her it would be exactly as she had designed.

The design- it wasn't a mech frame; it had the features that clearly delineated it as feminine. But it wasn't the typical femme frame either; the limbs were more solid, better for strength than the speed most femmes preferred. The shoulders, too, were broader than typical, unbalancing the symmetry between hip and shoulder that again, most femmes displayed. _Yes_, the constructor had explained to her before the medics switched her spark for the final time, _there have been other femmes with undeniably masculine traits, but they were either designed for specific functions or too poor to be fussy. Never has such a frame been commissioned on a-_ he'd broken off there, apparently frustrated but not knowing how to say it- _on a flight of fancy, or some other ridiculous passing craze! You'll regret this when your spark's too stabilized to switch. Give it a hundred vorns; you will regret this!_

She'd thanked him coolly for his work and asked him to be escorted from the operating room. Her creators were supporting each other silently, guilt clear to see.

Although she knew it wouldn't change anything, she made one last attempt to console them. "I'm not the one with issues on how my spark flares," she said gently, optics beseeching them to believe her. "I've never had any problems with it." She took a deep breath, intakes heaving. "I can't speak for everyone else, but this is how I am and no Cybertronian, mech or femme, will change my opinion in this matter. If they have an issue, they can deactivate in a pit of rust and plague-ridden turbo-rats."

Her femme creator was shocked into releasing a laugh that bordered on hysterical. Her mech creator, after a beat, raised an optic ridge and asked where his little femme had learned to talk like that. It was the best she was going to get.

She gave them one last smile before lying back and letting the waiting medic put her under. When she next onlined, it could go two ways- either her frame would be the closest thing she would ever have to fitting- or it would be irreconcilable with her spark, and she would be sent immediately back offline, this time permanently.

She never admitted to anyone the trepidation she felt as her third frame's sensors powered down for the final time. She thought the risk was justified, and nobody was going to undermine that.

Similarly, the relief she felt in the first few seconds of onlining again was never mentioned. Then those seconds passed, and her sensors and subroutines reconciled themselves in one swift process of _right-right-this-is-right_. She ordered her optics to power up; the reaction was instantaneous, without the lag time her second frame had suffered as it went through unfamiliar channels.

She laughed, absolutely delighted with the feeling, smiling so widely at her creators that they had to mirror the expression back.

"Cybertron welcomes its new sister," the medic she'd forgotten in a rush of _right-right-right_ intoned. "I present to Primus and His people, Aurora Pax, beloved of the Almighty Creator."

Aurora Pax barely heard him as she smiled throughout her Coming of Age ceremony.

This was finally _right_.


	2. Finding Me

Others still looked askance at her, questions in their optics that would never escape their vocaliser. It annoyed her frequently that while staring was considered ruder than a politely-worded inquiry, it was considered more acceptable in her creators' circle of society than quickly and cleanly satisfying their curiosity would be.

Much to their horror (her creators'; with some amusement she suspected their friends of being delighted to have something new about her to gossip over), she accepted a job that suited her _and_ her tough frame- that of a dockworker. She moved from her creators' area to one far less affluent. She got used to the heavy lifting and transporting of cargo from one ship to another, or to one of the many warehouses in the trade circle; her frame was as strong as a mid-sized mech even if she tended to be taller than most of them, and there were few jobs that she was physically incapable of handling.

She was pleasantly surprised when on the first cycle, one of the mechs walked straight up to her and asked "What kinda glitch are you, then? Poor or just crazy?"

With a grin, she answered. "Neither. I'm just me. Aurora Pax." She held out her hand to him.

He extended his own, shaking her hand firmly. "Don't be expecting no special treatment on account of being a femme. You got the struts for it, you do the work, understand?"

Aurora Pax nodded once, sharply, grin not diminishing. He smiled himself then, releasing her hand and clapping her on the shoulder. "I'm Dion. I'm gonna be showing you the wires; try to keep up."

He spun and started walking over to the lifting machinery, talking all the while. Aurora Pax shoved the happy feeling in her processor to the side to revel in later, and ran to catch up, asking questions when he started using dialects she didn't understand.

"Primus, were you raised in the Towers?" Dion finally asked after the fifth time.

"No," she shot back, a little affronted. "But I wasn't raised around here, either."

He gave her a thorough once-over, from cranium to peds and back up. "Shoulda figured. Your frame's strange, but not cheap."

"It's me," Aurora Pax insisted stubbornly, refusing to let his judgement affect her. Something must have shown in her optics, because his expression softened ever so slightly.

"Hm." He cocked his cranium to the side, considering. "Yeah," he finally said. "It is, you glitchy, misfit, high-grade swilling excuse for a mid-circle socialite."

Her mouth fell open; she couldn't help it. Then she noticed his smirk and understood. "Glad you agree, you pitch-dunked, oil-drinking spawn of rust and a turbo-rat." She raised an optic ridge, lifted her cranium a little: challenge sent.

Dion ignored it with a chuckle and clapped her on the shoulder again. "We," he stated mirthfully, "Are going to be brilliant."

She laughed, and clapped him one back. "Frag yes," she agreed. Then she pointed to the _narclet_ that had started their argument. "Now how does this work again?"

* * *

Aurora Pax had never discriminated when it came to interfacing- she also never wondered if this was because of the impressions left on her spark or if it would have happened anyway.

She'd experimented with her third frame, testing out what felt good, and with a couple of mechs who were interested until they realised that most of the time, she couldn't get into it. The lag-time between sensor and reaction confused some and insulted others- while it normally felt okay, and yes, that relay was quite sensitive, actually, the difference between a femme frame and a mech CPU had never been so pronounced as when she had to guide them to her hotspots which due to the nature of her circuitry, were in similar places to theirs rather than where they were expecting.

Then there were the times when the feeling just didn't register with her mech-CPU because it couldn't compute it. No other Cybertronian had ever brought her to overload because the things that should have worked for her frame didn't for her CPU and normally became junk data that was compartmentalised and deleted in short order.

Her fourth frame was a whole new experience, as she discovered when after a cycle of heavy drinking, she and Dion fell into the same berth. Her recollection was patchy from the high-grade they'd consumed, but she remembered the blissful feeling of having someone else overload her for the first time, and being able to react honestly and _immediately_ to his touches.

(She also remembered him cursing her out luridly when in return, she went straight for the most commonly sensitive areas on a mech frame, knowing where they were from personal experience, and reducing him to a pile of strutless scrap in short order.)

They'd onlined the next cycle still intertwined, sharing uncertain, sheepish grins until Dion gathered his ball bearings and admitted that while it was a fragging good benefit, he wasn't really looking to make any more binding arrangements. Aurora Pax had let out a sigh in relief, he'd pretended to be offended, and they started the cycle without any more tension between them.

They never made a more formal arrangement- Dion fell into a new femme's berth every other orn, it seemed- but after a particularly flat conquest (and she always, requested or not, was given _all_ of the details), he'd fall back into hers and complain, between moans, how she'd ruined him for every other femme out there.

She'd laugh and bring up Moonrock _with those luscious plates_, or Skysoar _with those beautiful wings_, or Rainmaker _with that deliciously sensitive_-

He'd always cut her off there with a clever touch and as seriously as he could with a smirk on his face, ask her to stop mentioning former berth-mates while interfacing with him.

The last time they interfaced was the night before she met Ariel. Ariel, with her pink plates and bright optics and smooth cranium, who was every inch the proper femme Aurora Pax had never been.

Ariel who'd wandered into the dockyard, completely lost, and offered up a shocked apology when it happened that the Cybertronian she'd addressed as "Excuse me, mech, but could you..." turned around and proved to be an unorthodox femme instead.

Much to Dion's disgust, Aurora Pax was charmed from that moment.

Ariel took some time more- vorns of repeated outings and friendly dinners (that Aurora Pax told herself counted as dates, despite the fact that they weren't)- before she let herself consider being involved with the other femme. Even then, it was a hesitant, half-ashamed involvement; she'd look around before touching Aurora in public and never would if she actually recognised anyone.

Eventually, Aurora Pax ended the relationship herself, despite how much it hurt her. Ariel's reaction- part sorrow, part understanding, part _relief_- struck deeper than the initial pain because it confirmed that the other femme _had_ cared for her- only she cared for the opinion of other Cybertronians more.

Her last serious partner, though- he was everything Ariel wasn't. He was from the rough side of the planet, cared nothing for what others thought of him, was controlling in the berth and faintly _demanded_ her attention when _he_ decided he wanted it.

Megatron wasn't anything Aurora Pax had seen before. And she loved him for it, right up until she couldn't afford to.

* * *

They'd met on one of the trio's bar-crawling cycles; the trio, because twenty or so vorns after she and Ariel had ended, Dion hesitantly approached her and asked if she would mind him becoming involved with her. Aurora Pax had flinched, locked away the immediate _no_ that crossed her CPU and smiled sadly.

"Of course not," she'd said softly. "If it would make you and her happy, I'd _want_ you to."

It was the first time she'd lied to either of them.

It hurt a little less each time she saw them together, but this cycle was still early on in their relationship, and Aurora Pax felt like the awkward, clingy extra everyone was too polite to send away. She'd ditched them after the third place and ended up in a dive deep in the slums, where Cybertronians walked around armed to the denta and not afraid to show it.

She was the only femme drinking alone, but Aurora Pax was used to standing out and it didn't bother her so much. She'd had three cubes before someone else decided to make an issue of it.

The mech was large, solid but lightly armoured. Then she noticed the armour in question had edges like a surgical scalpel, and reassessed him. It was a specific mod; he had some fighting experience, clearly.

"Dunno why you thought you were welcome here, you freakish glitch, but I say your invitation's officially worn out."

Already in a bad mood, she resented paying him any real attention. Aurora Pax just scoffed and ignored him, signalling the bartender for another cube. When he consented to serve her, she smirked and turned back to the mouthy fragger. "Seems he disagrees," she stated blandly, and took a long drink.

The mech bristled at her. "Don't think I won't hit you 'cause you're," his optics raked her up and down, "_barely _a femme. Down here's a whole new class of mech, glitch. And _we_ say, get the frag outta here _now_, before we make you."

She didn't know why it got to her; Dion had tossed worse insults her way during their time together. This barely scratched the surface of some of the slag she'd heard in her life.

But she slammed the cube back on the counter, stood up and went chest to chest with him. He was the same height as her, which gave her a vicious pleasure. "I'm not going to try and understand why you have an issue with me, but let me warn you: I've had a bad cycle so far. Do you really want to do this?"

_What was she doing, she'd never thrown a punch in her life, he was going to _offline_ her-_

He glared at her and said cruelly, "I'd never do something lookin' like _you_."

And that was how Aurora Pax had her first fight started for her.

She swung wildly at him, aiming for the faceplate, but he simply caught her fist and twisted it sharply, spinning her around and forcing it up her back. "And the view's no better from behind," he hissed into her audio, gloating.

She threw back her cranium, feeling it crunch against his. He cursed and let go of her wrist. The attack disorientated her, though, so she fell forwards, just catching the floor on her arms rather than on her face.

His gyros stabilised before hers did, and he kicked her in the midsection before she could do anything but gasp. She was thrown onto her back, still passing air heavily through her intakes, but managed a kick that took his legs out from under him. She got to her peds before he could and pressed one into his chest plate, mindful of the sharp edges. It was just above his spark.

Bad mood or not, she wasn't going to offline the mech. He didn't know that, however, and she _was_ in a bad mood enough to threaten him.

"I'm going to let you up in a moment," she said, "and if you try to start something, I will pin you again and I will crush your fragging spark." She glared with all the force her bad mood lent her. "Understand?"

The mech nodded reluctantly, hatred in his optics. Slowly, she lifted her ped and stepped away. Slowly, he stood up and clenched his fists. For a moment, Aurora Pax thought he'd actually try something, and what the frag was she going to do then, but he turned and stiffly walked out of the establishment.

She sat back at the counter, and then the shakes started. Primus, she'd just had her first fight, what the frag had she been thinking, he had clearly done that sort of thing before, how the frag had she pulled that off, what if someone else tried something now-

She jumped when another cube was set in front of her. Red optics appraised her expression, and she had no idea what they saw but the mech they belonged to sat next to her and gestured to the cube he'd brought over.

"Take it," he said, with a vocaliser sounding like it was full of gravel. "That was impressive, seeing someone clearly untrained taking out a mech like that."

She took the cube and drank, hoping it would steady her. "It's not something I plan to make a habit of," she replied when she thought her voice wouldn't tremble.

He smirked at her. "Yes, femmes are normally so soft-sparked, they can't bring themselves to enjoy a confrontation, can they?"

And while she was trying to stop herself from starting another fight (this mech looked like he'd put _her_ on the floor, and probably in pieces), he added casually, "but I'd say you aren't any kind of normal femme, are you?"

Shocked blue optics flew up to meet his. His expression was daring her to prove him right. In lieu of answering, she finished the cube he'd bought her and set it on the counter between them. Instead of being annoyed at her stalling, he seemed pleased by her actions.

"I've never met a femme who drinks so much like a mech. Their systems aren't wired to stand the same tolerances, _normally_."

Ignoring him, she signalled the bartender for another cube. He glanced at her companion warily (compounding her own wary reactions to the mech), but obligingly passed over another of what she was drinking.

"Nor one who'd dare to drink alone in this part of Central City. Rough types down here, not many who'd be able to protect themselves." She saw him glance at her sidelong. "Frag, if that mech had been any less intoxicated you'd've had your aft handed to you."

"What do you want?" Aurora Pax snapped, turning to face him fully. "If that mech _had_ been less intoxicated, he probably wouldn't have tried to start anything."

He snorted at her naiveté. "You're way out of your comfort zone, femme. Yet for some reason, you persist. It intrigues me." He, like the other mech, gave her a thorough once-over. This time, it didn't feel like an insult; more an assessment.

She returned the look, starting with the helmet-like cover on his cranium, down across the shoulders even broader than hers, the solid midsection and armoured limbs. She noticed the attachment catches on his arm, though whatever resided there was currently missing. "You military?" she asked, for lack of a better question.

"Does that scare you?"

She studied his expression. There was no shame there, no embarrassment like he was trying to hide what he was. He was completely comfortable in his frame.

More than anything else about him (features she'd catalogued and refused to linger on) she found that... alluring.

"No," she answered, voice lower than before. "No, you don't scare me."

He gave her another smirk. "I should," he said, before getting to his feet. "But your ignorance is almost charming."

"Where are you going?" The words slipped out before she could stop herself.

He looked down at her, interest in his optics. "Somewhere the high-grade is illegally brewed and illegally strong," he replied, gravel-voice lower than hers. "Want to join me?"

This time, Aurora Pax rose to the dare. She tossed back the rest of her cube and placed enough chips on the counter to cover her drinks. "Let's go," she said, standing up. The top of her cranium just reached his shoulders; he was among the tallest mechs she'd ever met.

His smirk became slightly wicked, and she entertained the notion that maybe he was right, and she should be afraid.

Then he said, "Follow me," and made his way to the exit.

She _should_ be afraid- Dion was probably going rusty by now wondering what had happened to her- but she wasn't.

She followed him out of the door.

* * *

She onlined the next cycle with a processor that felt burnt out and a frame covered in scratch marks, some worryingly deep but most trifling. A few looked like the aftermath of a fight, while others... she turned to the mech whose berth she was lying in, observing him without the clouding influence of high-grade.

Heavily armoured from cranium to peds, mostly matt grey plating and optics she knew burned brilliantly red to match his midsection. Obviously strong, obviously bulky; for the first time in her life, she felt _delicate_ lying next to him. It didn't help that she remembered how easy it had been for him to hold her down last night (how she'd arched into the contact and loved every moment of it).

With a shiver, she sat up and looked curiously around the room. It was mostly bare: energon dispenser in one corner, a small table with a couple of datapads in another. A window set high in the wall let in the light that must have onlined her, a door that presumably led to the 'fresher facilities opposite the berth. And next to the door-

_Definitely military._ Propped up next to the door was what she assumed to be the attachment to his right arm. She immediately understood why he didn't walk around with it all of the time.

Nearly as long as her arm, wide as her palm, some sort of cannon rested against the wall. It was matt black, eerily rejecting the light that tried to hit it.

Turning back to her berth-mate, she noticed he'd onlined at some point. He glanced at the cannon, then back at her, and asked mockingly, "Do I scare you now?"

The cannon could probably disintegrate her with one blast.

She grinned at him. "No. You should, but my ignorance protects me from the true horror of your form."

His optics were strangely serious, she thought, for the comment. He replied to her, "I need no such protection. I look at you and think you're stunning."

Aurora Pax blinked a few times, completely blindsided. He seemed to gather this from her expression, and explained: "I've never met a femme so different and so comfortable in her own frame. You make no excuses and frag anybody who doesn't like it." There was a shadow of a grin, "not to mention, your legs go on for _orns_."

That startled a laugh out of her, but he turned serious again. "I've never seen a femme throw herself into a fight like you did last night, nor met one who liked it as rough as you were begging for it in my berth last night."

That... was probably the most backhanded compliment anyone had ever given her. "Met a lot of femmes in your berth, have you?" She asked archly, ignoring the first part of his speech and how uncomfortable it made her. She realised with a shock that they hadn't actually introduced themselves the night before.

He smirked, dark and daring. "Never one like you." It was as though he could read her expression, because he added, "I am Megatron, of Kaon."

He seemed to be judging something in her reaction. Like so much else with this mech, this _Megatron_, she had no idea what he was looking for. "Aurora Pax, Central," she said, drily adding, "I suppose a handshake is redundant now?"

His frame relaxed at her reply. She didn't know what he had found, but seemed to please him without even trying. It was a pleasant thought, that there might be something in them that matched, something that made this worth prolonging. They were essentially attracted to each other for the same reasons, after all.

"I," Megatron declared, rolling and reaching out to pin her down, "am going to have a lot of fun with you, Aurora Pax."

She craned her neck up to reach his audio. "Bring it, Megatron," she whispered. "Let's see what I can take."

She relaxed into his hold and met his optics squarely. What she saw made her shiver again.

_Definitely worth prolonging._


	3. Escalation

It wasn't that she was blind, or deaf; she _knew_ things were spiralling out of control. The national comm broadcasts were either crime reports or useless information that was somehow worse for how it told its listeners absolutely nothing. It was just- what could she do? She had no real talents, no handy training and next to no fighting ability (her bar brawls not withstanding- Megatron appeared to get a vicious pleasure out of inciting a mech to insult her and then watching her take him down with the moves he'd taught her earlier that orn).

No names were mentioned (she kept telling herself that when she later wondered how she was so _blind_). It was just numbers and cities- _shrapnel bomb exploded in Mebion, 3 offlined, 7 wounded- lone shooter in Tyrest takes down 13 before being caught by enforcers- underground fighting ring in Kaon explodes into street-_

"Primus." Aurora Pax glanced over at the comm unit, then back at her partner. "You just got back from Kaon; it must have kicked off as soon as you left."

Megatron blinked. He had that expression where he wasn't sure exactly what to do with her, one he'd been wearing more often over the last four vorns. "I- assume so, yes," he said, slowly. "But tensions were high everywhere I went. It was only a matter of time before something happened."

"Still- an underground fighting ring?" Aurora Pax leant forward in her seat, so earnest. "That sounds serious. Isn't it the sort of situation the military should be called in on?" Her optics went wide as she worked something out. "Is that why you went back this time? Were you called in on a mission to eradicate them?" She scanned his frame quickly, not noticing any new injuries.

"No," Megatron assured her quickly. "If the military gets sent in, it will be a massacre. They're trying to have the enforcers handle it, however," he cocked his cranium, wondering how much he could tell her, "it's looking as though the city will be lost to these rebels by the end of the vorn."

"That's terrible," she whispered, reaching out with a hand to cover his. "Your home city, taken over by lawless criminals."

He was studying her very intently, optics focussed. She huffed indignantly, smothering an inappropriate laugh.

"Yes, I know. Soft-sparked and all that. It doesn't mean I can't feel sympathy, steel-for-spark that you are." She squeezed his hand gently before letting him go. "Want to go out and get your CPU off it?"

The intensity of his stare lessened, a flicker of a smile making its way over his face. "Want to see if we can break your record?"

"My rec-" momentary confusion gave way to irritation, and she elbowed him in the chest. "I'm not getting into more than three brawls to satisfy your curiosity. In fact," she elbowed him again, harder, "I wouldn't get into any brawls if you didn't keep inciting mechs to _try it_."

He caught her arm as she went to hit him again and pulled her close, her back fitting against his front. "It's all in good fun, Aurora Pax," he growled into her audio. "I don't worry because I know you can take it."

She leant back into him, making him support her weight. "And if you miscalculate? If I can't?" She knew he wouldn't drop her.

The growl became darker, fiercer. "They'll leave in pieces for hurting you."

* * *

_-Kaon now fully in the grip of insurgents- similar rebellions taking place in Mebion and Vos- comm byte from self-proclaimed leader- new name- Decepticons-_

* * *

"Primus, femme," Dion leant back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table. "How long's it been since the three of us kicked back like this?"

She and Ariel exchanged amused glances. "It's only been a couple of vorns, Dion," Ariel said softly. "And you've seen her at the docks."

"Yeah, at _work_," Dion replied, opinion on that clear. "The moment she's off duty it's all about her berth-mate; she never takes the time to see us anymore!"

"I'm still here," Aurora Pax pointed out testily, coming back to the pair with three cubes stacked on top of each other.

"For once," the lone mech snapped. "Your Megatron is a possessive slagger, you know? I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you outside the docks in the last orn, and two of those were surprises."

"I don't mind his possessiveness," she countered levelly. "It lets me know he-" she broke off awkwardly, suddenly aware of where this conversation could go. Very pointedly, she did not let her optics catch Ariel's.

The pink femme spoke up anyway. "It lets you know he cares about you." There was sadness in her expression, a 'what-if?' never answered. "I'm glad you have someone who can do that for you now."

Aurora Pax forced back the sharp retort on her glossa. "Like I'm glad you and Dion have each other," she said instead, rewarded with a smile she still thought was beautiful even vorns later.

There was a long silence, nobody quite sure how to break it. Dion finally spoke, "What do you think about the rebellion reports, then?"

"I think it's horrible, as you well know," Ariel said immediately. "All this pointless fighting- what do they think they can achieve?"

_Typical femme_, Aurora Pax thought, then blinked. Was that how she viewed the rest of her race?

"And you, Aurora Pax?"

She jumped, and did her best to answer Dion's question. "I don't think it's pointless," she explained. "These- _Decepticons_- clearly have a reason for fighting or they wouldn't bother. They have a grievance with the government that should be addressed." When it looked like Ariel was about to argue, she continued, "But they could have raised their point in a better manner than fighting. Nobody will take them seriously if they don't stop killing everybody who opposes them."

"Maybe they mean to kill everyone 'til only those who agree with them are left," Dion stated soberly. The femmes glanced at him warily, in time to see a grin break out on his face. "Come on, like the Prime will allow that to happen?"

"The Prime doesn't have a final say in every decision, Dion," Aurora Pax rebutted. "If his council decides to go to war, he must lead them without dissent."

"You really think it will come to war?" Ariel asked, fear plain to see.

"The council have already lost Kaon; Vos and Mebion are all but fallen," Aurora Pax reported. "There's rumours that Vos didn't even fight- the seeker council signed on with the Decepticon leader without hesitation."

"Primus frag it," Dion whispered. "Where'd you hear that? I hadn't heard of it, and I get all the best rumours."

She delayed her answer for a moment, but he caught it. "Should've guessed. Megatron?" He asked, irritated.

"And what of it?" she replied. "It's a couple of things he's heard on the military comm line, that's all."

"Have you not noticed what the three cities have in common, Aurora?" Dion was shouting across the table at her. "Military presences! Vos- the seekers, our air force. Mebion- our military industry. And Kaon produces more military frames than the rest of Cybertron put together. How do you think a petty rebellion managed to overcome three military cities if they weren't in on it?"

Aurora Pax could read between the codes. "You think Megatron's a part of it," she said, betrayal in her voice. "You think my partner is out there offlining random mechs and femmes for the fun of it under the mask of making a political statement?" Her voice had risen; she was shouting right back at him. "You've never even met the mech! How dare you make such a judgement on him?"

"Do you know the rumour I did hear? About this fabled Decepticon leader?" Dion stood up and threw his untouched cube at the wall. "He's a military model, a large one. Heavy duty service at least. Favours a fusion cannon. And he signs his comm bytes, 'M'. 'M', Aurora." His face softened. "I don't want to see you hurt, Aurora Pax, by me or anyone else. I just- maybe you should start preparing for the possibility-"

"No." Her voice was sharp and cool. "No." She looked up, and her optics scorched him. Ariel sat forgotten on the couch, watching the two carefully. "If- I'll ask him myself, if it comes to it. But right now, nothing he has done should make me suspect him." She picked up her cube and took a steady drink of the energon. "Anyway, if he is this Decepticon leader, and I'm his partner?" She let out a bitter laugh that made Dion and Ariel wince. "I must be the safest spark on Cybertron, at this point in time."

* * *

Aurora Pax had never thought to connect Megatron's military duties with the comm reports that were coming in every orn from all corners of the planet. But now Dion had raised the doubt in her CPU, she couldn't ignore the automatic patterning of _he was there? That's where the latest violence has begun_. It was a crazy cycle of was-he-sent-there-to-deal-with-it-or-was-he-the-cause-of-it?

He had the next few orns in Central City; Aurora Pax planned to take advantage of it, and question him beyond her norm on exactly what he'd been sent out to do in Vos, where his last posting had been.

So there she was, about to knock on his door and ask her lover if he was responsible for the planet-wide upheaval Cybertronians everywhere were talking about.

Perhaps not in so many words.

Megatron answered while she was still lost in her thoughts. It took him placing a hand on her midsection, guiding her inside, to regain her attention.

"Oh," she said, moving where he led her. "Hello, again."

He smirked at her. "Hello. What were you thinking about in that processor of yours?"

There were few outward signs, but she knew he appreciated her coming over to see him every time he was back in Central. The closest she could get to explaining it was seeing something in his optics; Primus knew his expression was mostly inscrutable.

Facing him again, she couldn't believe what she had been thinking. "Nothing of importance," she replied with a shake of her cranium. "Just something strange that Dion said."

His smirk turned playful; dangerous. "Am I going to have to distract you?"

She matched him, smirk for smirk. "Do you think you're up to the job, soldier?"

"Come here, femme," he growled, pulling her down to the berth. She laughed, and went with him. Her thoughts were put aside- she didn't plan to dwell on them again.

* * *

"Megatron's back, then," was Dion's greeting as she wandered into the docks the next cycle. "You always have a stupid grin on your face when you come straight from his place."

"Ariel not putting out?" she asked sweetly, used to the coarseness of the mech workers and more than willing to repay it. "Is that why you're so grumpy with me these days? Not getting it from her, but can't get it from anyone else either?"

"That's not your business," he said, aiming it to wound; Aurora Pax was more amused by it these cycles. It had been so long, and she was happy enough with Megatron, that Dion and Ariels' being together wasn't the massive hurt it used to be. "I'm more concerned with what's going to befall Central now he's here."

"For Primus's sake, Dion-"

"Did you even ask him if he was involved?" He interrupted her. "A simple yes or no question, I assume you could tell when he lied in return."

"I didn't, actually," she bit back. "There's no need- I _know_ him Dion, there's no way he's involved. He's one of the mechs sent to deal with it, not the one causing it."

"You're sure of this?" he asked, probing deeper.

She put her hands on her hips so she didn't punch her best friend. "I'm sure. I trust him, Dion; if you can't trust the mech you-" she stopped, suddenly aware she hadn't even admitted that to herself yet, and tried another route, "if you can't trust your partner, who can you trust?"

"Your best friend, for one," Dion said shortly, before turning to the machine he was working on that cycle, and ending their conversation.

"Frag it, Dion-" Aurora Pax stopped, hearing something on the edge of her audio range.

"What is it?" He'd noticed her sudden silence and was aware her audios were sharper than his.

She powered down her optics, focussing on the noise. "Sounds like... crying?" She reported, wondering what the reason was. "Screaming, yelling, general confusion. Coming from the office." She pinpointed the sound with difficulty.

"Let's go see what it's about, then," Dion said, their argument put aside for now.

When they entered the office, it was to see a large crowd of their co-workers surrounding the comms broadcasting system. They caught most of the message; presumably it was on repeat.

_-Prime has been assassinated by the leader of the Decepticons. This is not a hoax; Sentinel Prime is offlined. An interim council has taken control of Cybertron, and once a new Prime is selected there is talk of war being officially declared. If anyone suspects they have intelligence on Decepticon movements, go to your local enforcer stations immediately and tell them what you know. This is your interim council, signing off. Stay safe._

Dion and Aurora Pax traded eloquent looks before she fled, running full out for the apartment she'd stayed at last night, and the mech she shared it with.

It was just a feeling in her spark.

But until she'd heard that message, until such a huge act of war had been committed in her own city, she'd never realised just how little she believed in coincidences.

* * *

"Megatron!" She burst through his door and caught him as he was placing his _fusion_ cannon back against the wall.

He looked openly surprised for the first time since she'd met him. "Aurora-"

Her optics were stuck on the now resting weapon. "What were you doing with that?" she asked, tension in every syllable. He hesitated to answer; half hysterically Aurora Pax wondered if that could be taken as an admission of guilt.

"Megatron, answer me. Where were you in _Central_ that was so dangerous you required your cannon?"

They locked gazes. It was the only way she'd know if he tried to lie to her. Looking back, she'd think he must have underestimated her, or thought her ignorance would betray her, because had he known how off-guard his optics could be he would never have made them so easy for her to see.

"Aurora Pax," Megatron said, voice completely steady. She wondered if she could hate him a little for that. "I was called in to the council building to help re-order the chaos left in the assassin's wake." His expression was entreating, open and willing her to believe him.

His optics were blank. No flashes of emotion, no sparks of feeling to match his words.

She recoiled when he reached out for her, avoiding his touch. "You're lying," she whispered. Thoughts cascaded from all corners of her CPU, half-remembered moments of insight she hadn't wanted to think about at the time; dates, places, curious looks and turns of phrase. "It was you all along. Primus, have I been this blind the whole time? Why couldn't I-"

"Aurora!" Megatron's tone had changed; it was urgent. "Listen to me-"

"No!" She backed out of the door; she couldn't handle this at the moment. She needed some time- "I need to get away. I need to think. I just- I need to go. Away from here."

She turned and ran. His last words made her flinch, though she pretended she didn't hear them.

"Go, then," he whispered. "But go far away. Leave this place entirely."

It broke her spark just that little bit more.

Megatron sat heavily on his berth, door still wide open from her exit. _At least if she's gone..._

"She won't be in danger tomorrow. She'll be out of the city by then, away from here."

The attack plans sat uncomfortably in his CPU, but it was too late to halt them now. Seekers had been infiltrating the city for orns, waiting for his signal in the form of assassinating the Prime.

He dragged his thoughts away from her and lost himself in the organising of the strike tomorrow, focussing away from residential areas and more on crippling the political and economical circles of the city.

"Tomorrow, it begins in the open."

_I'm not going back._


	4. Reborn

"You were right."

Aurora Pax walked into the docks the next cycle looking like a drone. Her expression was flat and her optics dark.

Her statement made Dion jump; he hadn't seen her coming. "Right?" he echoed, momentarily confused. "Right about wha... frag, Aurora Pax." He stood and gathered her into a hug. Gratefully, she leant against him and let him soothe her. "I didn't want to be right," he muttered against her audio. "I'm sorry that I was right, but you had to see."

She pulled away, stood on her own again. "Did you know?" she asked, hands trembling. "Did you _actually_ know, or was it just rumours and coincidences?"

He couldn't meet her optics.

"Dion," she begged him to tell her _why_. "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me do that?"

"You wouldn't have believed me," he said bitterly. "You would have gone running to him anyway, and the outcome would have been the same."

"Primus," she whispered, the enormity of the situation creeping into her awareness. "Dion- we have to go- to the enforcers. I probably know more about him than anyone not in his forces; his address, his description..."

"Aurora Pax..." he trailed off. She knew what he was going to ask, _are you ready for this?_ She pre-empted him.

"I hate what he's doing to our planet. I _need_ to do this to make up for how blind I've been this whole time."

He studied her intently, taking in the unpolished plates, the trembling limbs and carefully blank face. "Fine then," he said. "But we're taking the day off to do this; Primus knows you should have anyway after a revelation like that."

"We?" she questioned, looking at him, _really_ looking for the first time. More than anything, that reassured him that it was the right thing to do.

"Yes, _we_," he emphasised. "Best friends, right? I won't let you do this on your own."

She smiled at him; it was a bit hesitant and a lot broken, but better than the blank look she'd been wearing until then.

"Great, just let me clear it with the office-"

"What's that?" she asked suddenly.

Dion had half-turned. He whirled back around to see her looking to the sky, searching for something.

"What are you looki-"

"It's an attack! _Seekers_!"

The cry sent the docks into a panic, people rushing for cover and not caring who they knocked over.

Aurora Pax stood frozen, oblivious to Dion trying to drag her away. Her optics were focussed above the skyline as she said, "Is this what you imagined might happen, Dion? What you thought might befall Central now he's here?"

He ignored her question, still trying to drag her away. "Aurora, we have to move _now_, come on! For the love of Primus, _move_!" He jerked hard on her arm with the last word. She stumbled, gaze averted, and only then seemed to become aware of what was going on around them.

"Come on," he repeated, still loud but more gently, and she nodded, moving with him in search for cover.

She saw the seeker before he did. It was coming in hot from the dockside, the sunlight behind it making it difficult to see. Acutely aware there was nothing nearby for shelter, she tripped her friend as he was running and jumped on top to cover him with her own frame. He struggled, but she had been hyped up for the last cycle; it was curiously easy to hold him down.

"_Aurora Pax_-"

She heard the shots coming closer and crouched lower, hoping they'd simply pass them over.

Then there was sharp pain in her shoulder, in her back, her leg...

She heard her name being screamed once more, amongst the flashes and warnings lighting up her CPU. There were too many for her to process, too much data incoming at one time.

There was a last sharp pain, her arm this time-

-then nothing.

* * *

She onlined with a groan, feeling the ache and stretch of cables replaced and parts repaired. Everything was out of sync, though, and when she tried to get an error report together, the information took a staggeringly long delay to reach her CPU. She hadn't felt like this in _vorns_, not since-

With a jolt, she realised.

_Not since she'd been stuck in her second frame._

_Primus_, what had happened to her? She remembered the- _Megatron_- and the strike at the docks, but what- why was her frame behaving like-

The error report finally came through, completely derailing her thought process with the new influx of information.

Parts she didn't even know she _had_ were reporting in as functional at 70%.

_Didn't know she had..?_

Aurora Pax had designed that frame from the inside out- processors, relays, cables; _everything_. There was not a part in her frame that she didn't know about.

_What had happened to her?_

External sensors finally came online; the first thing she noticed was the sound of confused babbling to her left, with a quieter voice trying to reassure it. She didn't recognise either of them, though she could just about make out the words.

"But this- this is unheard of! Never has the Matrix chosen a femme to wield itself, not since the era of Primus Almighty! How could this have happened, what did I do wrong?"

The other voice chimed in then- "Well, you didn't check she was a mech before upgrading her. It's not like it was hard to miss."

"But it shouldn't have accepted her! Why it would accept a femme's spark now of all times, I can't begin to imagine; we have no time to bring her gently into her role!"

"But it _did_ accept her. I thought this was all down to the will of Primus?" Distinctly mocking, now.

Maybe the second voice was less reassuring and more irritated. She would be too, if she'd been listening to that for any length of time.

Her optics finally powered up; she looked around the room curiously. The last she remembered, she'd been shot repeatedly at the docks. Was this the local medical facility?

One look was enough to disprove her theory. If the room itself didn't do it (looking more like a lab than a hospital room), the mech still babbling in a somewhat panicked tone at her bedside was a solid indicator.

"What did you do to me?" she asked flatly. "Where am I; this isn't a medical facility? Who are you both?" She didn't care for the rudeness of her questions, or of talking over the old mech; at that point she only wanted her answers and didn't care who she had to interrogate to get them.

That... was an odd thought for her to have. Even odder was that while she was pondering this and the old mech didn't answer, she snapped out "Tell me!" and watched them both wince.

She'd never had the authority- or the bearings- to seriously order people around before. Drunken brawls notwithstanding, she felt like she actually expected to be obeyed. _What _had this fragger done to her?

"I am Alpha Trion," the babbling mech offered in answer to her demands. "I was guided to you in the aftermath of the attacks on Central, and brought you here to help your friends and yourself."

"My friends," Aurora Pax repeated slowly. Then- "Dion! Where is he, is he okay?"

"In a manner of speaking," Alpha Trion quickly replied. The other mech jerked his cranium sharply at this, looking incredulous. "It's just- this is all linked up into one critical piece of information. I don't know how to explain it to you-"

"Try." Her tone had hardened. If her friends were involved, she wanted to know what was going on, _now_.

The old mech took in a large amount of air and let it whistle out through his valves. "Very well," he said. "What do you know about the Matrix of Leadership?"

* * *

Alpha Trion had left- hurried out, to be honest, when she'd angrily ordered him to do so- leaving just her and Dion-

-her and _Ultra Magnus _-

-staring at each other from either side of the room.

He broke first. "You heard us."

"You onlined me," she shot back, in no mood to be accomodating.

"It's an interesting question, though. Why _did_ the Matrix accept you?"

Her CPU sluggishly brought up her earliest memories: stumbling around in a mech frame and having that imprint on her spark, being unable to revert to a _normal_ femme frame from then on. "Oh," she said softly, working it out.

He looked interested but didn't press her. She cast around for a new conversation starter, not wanting to explain.

"Did anyone else make it out?" She wondered quietly, picking a vaguely neutral topic.

Apparently it wasn't neutral enough; Dion- frag it, Ultra Magnus's face crumpled into an expression of grief and loss. She thought she knew what had caused it.

"Ariel," she said softly. There was a small noise of grief from her friend.

He visibly gathered himself and addressed her unspoken inquiry. "It's not as bad as it could have been," he explained, "only- frag it, Auror-" he cut himself off abruptly, remembering as she did that it wasn't her name anymore. "Only, she was close to the docks that cycle. Coming to visit us."

"Ariel was... offlined?" she prompted, hating the grief she was causing but needing to know.

"No; Alpha Trion brought her back, same as us two. Only... only, she hasn't onlined yet." His hands went to his cranium, pressing into the plates. "And if- and when she does, who's to say-"

"Who's to say what's going to happen?" she finished for him. It was a situation they had personal experience in, her more than her friend, she thought justifiably.

"She's not Ariel anymore," he whispered. "When she onlines- Alpha Trion rebuilt her from the base up- she's now _Elita One_. He planned for her to be femme commander, before realising the whole mistake with," he gestured at her, "now, I don't know what his plans are."

"He picks up three unarmed Cybertronians on the say so of a fragging crystal he has no full connection to and then just expects us to fight a war for him?"

Ultra Magnus gave her a long, searching look. "It wasn't the crystal that led him to us. It was the will of-"

"If you finish that sentence, delay or no delay I will get up and I will hurt you," she threatened.

The unspoken words hovered between them.

He broke their standoff. "I can't do this right now. I need some time to myself, some time to figure out where I stand- where Dion stands."

He went to the door, paused. "Maybe you should do the same." Walked through the door.

The unspoken words haunted the room after his exit.

_Get your bearings together, _Prime_. Primus has called upon you._


	5. Arise

"Report." It was the voice of a tyrant with the weight of an order from Primus himself.

The seeker he addressed gathered his datapads and began reading. "List of the offlined in the wake of the attack on Central: Sentinel Prime; Snipeshot; Transarm..."

Megatron tuned out for the majority of the list. It was the final anecdote, the last few names on the 'MIA, presumed offlined' that brought his attention back.

"...Dion; Aurora Pax; Steelcraft..."

She shouldn't have been anywhere near Central that day. She'd told him she was going away. He'd gone ahead with the attack because he knew she'd be-

He wasn't going to lie to himself. He would have preferred that she was safe, but it was of no real consequence to his goals that she hadn't been.

He ignored the sudden hurt in his spark and returned to the debriefing. "Intelligence reports? What is the current tension in the city? Is it still opposed to us, or have we crushed the previous regime already?"

The seeker twitched visibly. "There are... rumours, of a new Prime, my lord," he reported nervously. "One selected in the wake of our attack. He has proved a rallying point for the survivors; tensions are still high and resistance more so."

"_What_?" Megatron rose to his full height and glared at the cowering flier. "Why was I not informed of this sooner?"

"It has only just come to our attention!" The seeker hurried to appease his commander. "We informed you the moment we could confirm the rumour, my lord, and will continue to do so as soon as we have more information on the matter."

Megatron sank back into his throne, brooding. "Very well, then," he dismissed the seeker. "I want updates the _moment_ anything- unconfirmed or fact- is discovered."

"Yes, my lord," the seeker managed to get out, before fleeing the chamber.

Instead of seeing it entirely as a nuisance, Megatron began thinking in terms of an opportunity. He had assassinated one Prime already; if he did the same to this new, unsteady upstart, could he steal the Matrix for his own ends?

It would require much planning, he realised- orns of it, maybe. He sat back comfortably and started working on the bare struts of an idea.

* * *

The message was an unwelcome surprise.

_This is Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. I hear a new Prime has arisen. Would he do me the honour of a meeting in a designated neutral zone at sunset on the next cycle, so we can discuss a potential future for Cybertron?_

"Don't go," Ironhide said immediately. He was an old military model (predating even Megatron) whose opinion she heard and relied on regularly during these first few orns of her leadership. "He killed Sentinel Prime personally; he wants a shot at you now, and the Matrix itself."

Bellona Prime stood still as the message replayed itself. Her lieutenants, many of them from the remnants of Central's enforcer units, bickered around her as to the reasons behind Megatron's offer. Ironhide was the most vocal, having known Sentinel personally before his assassination.

"I will go," she said suddenly. "Use the same frequency he reached us on, and give him the co-ordinates to," she paused, wondering if it was a good idea, "the co-ordinates of the old dockyard, before he destroyed it. Tell him the new Prime will meet him at the appointed time, in this place. Do _not_ give him my name."

As the arguments started again, she cut them off with a raised hand. "You will not dissuade me on this." She locked optics with each of them. "And I have it on good authority that he will not want to kill me."

"What authority?" Siren asked, suspicion in his tone. It was to be expected, she realised, after reviewing her words. He had been responsible for enforcer intel; he had to be able to sift good information from lies. For lack of any similar job, she had asked him to man the comms and monitor the Decepticon frequencies they knew of; to glean any possible information on their movements from the brief snatches he picked up. So far, it had been a fruitless job.

"An old friend of mine died in those docks," she answered, reluctance in every word. "He knew her also, and regrets her offlining. He will not kill me." She forced herself to stop there. She didn't know any of these mechs personally and was unwilling to share her background with them.

Her status as Prime was shaky. That the Matrix had selected a femme, one with no military knowledge and barely any fighting experience, made few of them willing to truly believe in her despite _her_ willingness to learn. She briefly regretted sending Ultra Magnus to Polyhex, to sound out the tensions in the city, as he would have been a solid supporter of her actions but she had needed somebody she could trust to do the job.

At that point in time, there was only him. Arie- Elita One, she had barely seen since they'd been upgraded; they'd exchanged but a few words and the awkward gulf that appeared when it was just the two of them was more apparent than ever. Last she had heard, Elita was working independently to convince more of the 'traditional' femmes to pick up weapons. She was planning to create a guerrilla-style fighting unit that hit quickly and retreated quicker. If she was successful, the Prime had yet to hear of it.

"You're so certain Megatron won't kill you, because of this?" Ironhide asked doubtfully.

With no small trace of irony, she replied, "I'd stake my spark on it."

As things went, it was a rather effective way of ending the discussion.

* * *

Despite her cocky reassurances, Bellona didn't have as much confidence as she led her lieutenants to believe. Her frame had changed so much Megatron was unlikely to recognise her; as far as he knew, she was offlined in the attack on the docks.

She spotted him immediately as she passed into the neutral zone. He had his back to her in a typical display of arrogance and started talking before he turned around.

"You are more naive than I'd expected, though I can hear your lieutenants from here and see it is less than I'd hoped. If I were to kill you now, I would still have no chance of stealing your-"

He turned and cut off abruptly as she stopped five paces away from him. There was disbelief on his face, sorrow and regret that she refused to let comfort her. She was Bellona Prime. Aurora Pax was offlined.

How he still recognised her, she didn't know. Was it in her walk, or her expression? Viciously, she decided that she no longer wanted him to read her like he had in the past, and employed her new face plates that hid everything except her optics. If she had truly been so blind as to never really see him, behind his frame into what he was thinking-

-he would never again have the chance to see the same in her.

Megatron just stared at her; at her new form. He blinked when the shield covered her expression from him, and a sense of loss was seen in his optics before he could hide it.

She was as tall as him now. They faced each other in the designated neutral zone, and neither one knew what to say. Whatever his reasons for this meeting, assassination excepted, he appeared to have forgotten them.

"So this is why," he indicated their surroundings with a jerky wave. "I thought you were offlined, I thought I was responsible for your death. But instead-"

He stopped and ground his denta together in frustration. She said nothing, so he continued. "You weren't supposed to be there," he said. "Aurora-"

"That doesn't make it okay!" She burst out, yelling over him. "Whether I was there or not is immaterial; can't you see this _isn't_ the way to make your case to Cybertron! All you are doing is killing off anybody who might have once been sympathetic to your cause!"

"No! Aurora Pax, can't you see this isn't some uprising muttered about in the back bars of Central! This is a full scale rebellion trying to set things right on our planet- this is our future!" He spread his hands at the last point, gesturing expansively. All Bellona Prime could see was the fusion cannon mounted on his arm. She'd never seen him wearing it before.

He saw where her optics were looking, and sighed, dropping his arms again. "Some sacrifices must be made," he explained heavily, needlessly in her opinion. "This is a _revolution_."

"This is a military usurpation and a massacre," she replied shortly. Then she grinned, darker than he'd ever seen before. "And do you know the best bit?"

She trailed a hand down her chest plate, undoing the catches that held it in place. While Megatron stared, she bared her inner wiring, her spark-casing, energon and coolant lines that if ruptured, would prove off-lining. Then he saw the crystal nestled in underneath her spark, glowing softly with golden light.

"Is that-" he started asking hoarsely, unbelieving of what he was seeing.

"The Matrix of Leadership," she answered bluntly. "It came to me when they were fixing me up in the wake of your attack on Central."

"Then-" Megatron looked lost in a way she'd never seen before, so she cut across him again.

"I would never have gone with you, Megatron. Even before this," she placed a hand over the Matrix; golden light silhouetted her palm, "I was opposed to the rebellion _you_ started. I can't believe how blind I was." She shook her cranium sadly and started doing up the clasps again. "But you aren't looking at Aurora Pax anymore, dockworker and outcast femme. Now you are facing Bellona Prime, chosen from our people to stand up for Cybertron and defend it from mechs like you, who think force is the only answer to their problems."

"Force is our last resort when-"

"Slag it, so it should be!" She shouted. "But you haven't even tried to make your points heard any other way!"

"We did try!" He yelled back. "We tried for vorns before I even met you, but nobody would listen to us because we were military models. They disdained our opinions and thought us little better than violent turbo-rats scrabbling over the last bit of oil! Force is the _only_ way to gain their attention, but you can't possibly understand this, can you?"

"Prove me wrong, then," she shot back. "_I_ am Prime of our people, and I will listen. Call off your attacks, sit down with me right now and see if we can salvage something from the scrap here."

Megatron stopped himself saying what first crossed his CPU. She knew what his answer would be, had known it since she first accepted her new name, could see it in the clenching of his fists and slight shaking of his cranium.

"I can't," he said simply. "It's too late for that now."

She nodded once, decisively. "Then you've made your choice. This is all I have to say to you." She turned and walked towards the gate her allies had gathered behind.

"Aurora-"

"Bellona Prime," she corrected him, without looking back.

"Bellona," he started again, voice raised. "I'm sorry." It was a feeble thing to say, and she let him feel every bit of the derision she thought it deserved.

She stopped but did not turn. "You aren't sorry. You've already said, this was in the works before you even met me. I was a distraction from your plans at best, a charming piece of innocence and ignorance for you to enjoy when you weren't killing off your fellow Cybertronians. Don't patronise me now, don't disrespect every mech and femme you've killed or had killed in your name by telling me you're _sorry_."

She took a deep breath, intakes expanding, before stepping forwards again. Try as she might to ignore it, his words were still audible.

"I cared for you. Honestly and deeply. You weren't a distraction; you were someone I wanted at my side as we revolutionised our planet."

_Frag it_, she thought. Unable to deny her anger, she turned and faced him without any weapons involved. "You can't even say it; how do you expect me to believe you? You _loved_ me, Megatron. And I loved you."

It was the first time such a thing had been said between the two. She hoped his spark felt as tired as hers.

"_Aurora Pax_ loved you, Megatron. But no more. This war will be personal enough without dragging our history into it."

He looked her up and down like he had at her first meeting; an assessment. Then he nodded in admission, and dare she think it, respect?

"Bellona Prime," he mused out loud. "You were named for this war. Reborn for it. Yet you have the bearings to say it isn't the answer?" He raised an optic ridge, begging her to disagree.

She glared back at him. "The difference between you and I, Megatron, is that you asked for it." She glanced pointedly at his arm then behind him, where his own allies gathered. "I, on the other hand, was brought into it by chance and the will of Primus."

"You didn't start this war, but by Primus, you'll finish it?" He said, tone snide and mocking.

She didn't see the humour of the situation. She turned her back again and spoke the last words over her shoulder, looking back for the final time. "Yes, Megatron. I will."

She walked away, and finally, she let Aurora Pax go. She left the last link to that life staring at her from neutral ground, and felt no sorrow or bitterness in doing so.

Bellona Prime passed through the gate and rejoined her lieutenants. They started the long trek back to their headquarters; Ironhide gazed at her shrewdly as he walked beside her.

"Who was Aurora Pax?" he asked, direct and to the point.

Bellona Prime replied without hesitation. "Just somebody he used to know. Somebody he killed in Central city when the docks were attacked."

"Hm." He grabbed her arm and took her to the side to make a small bubble of privacy while they continued walking. Bellona let him; she needed his respect and confidence if she had any hope of inspiring the same in the rest of her people. "Will she cause any problems if say, she were forced into conflict with him?"

She met his optics squarely, but saw only honest inquiry, a tactical need-to-know. It cooled her ire somewhat. "Like I said, Aurora Pax is dead. I may be a femme, but I am also your Prime, reborn on the cusp of a war and selected to lead our people through it. I do not have any problems with the upcoming conflicts I will be fighting in."

Ironhide surveyed her for a few more moments before dropping his optics. "Very good then." He stopped moving and for the first time, he saluted her. "Prime. What duties do you have for me?"

She stopped with him and stared him down, but there was nothing ironic in his address or his question. So she mulled over the current situation and brought up what she thought were the most vital points. "We need information. Find someone skilled in retrieval and if you can, covert ops. We need to know what the other side is doing, what they are capable of. Then recruitment. They've had vorns to gather their numbers; we need to start doing the same."

"Permission to speak freely, Prime?"

She glared at him for the question. "You know as well as I do that I'm out of my depth. When have you ever needed permission?"

He looked to the side as if searching for strength before asking his question. "Then, what is Megatron capable of, Prime? You might be our best source of information in that matter."

Bellona felt like she'd been punched in the midsection. "What is-?" She clenched her fists. "Honestly, Ironhide? I don't think I've ever known the answer to that question."

"Did she?"

Bellona knew who he was asking about. "No. She was blinded by ignorance and innocence, and he found it too charming to enlighten her."

He let out a hiss in reply. "Covert ops, then? Prioritise the gathering of information, and recruitment?"

"That is what I would suggest. Do you have anything to add?" She checked her internal chronometer and realised her meeting with the representatives of Praxus was coming up soon. She started walking again, needing the time to collect herself.

"No." Ironhide was looking at her strangely, as though he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing anymore. "No, that's what I would have suggested. Prime." He saluted again, then jogged ahead to catch up with the others, delegating orders as he saw fit.

She considered the last look he gave her, and decided it could only be a compliment. Far from the naive femme she once was, she now held the responsibility over the fate of her people. She couldn't afford to be that femme anymore.

The sun was just rising over the city's skyline. "Goodbye, Aurora Pax," she said softly, unheard by her soldiers. She subspaced her new weapon after a moment's consideration, feeling the weight of it settle in her palms.

Bellona Prime strode towards headquarters, cranium held high and gun in her hands.

She had a war to finish.

* * *

_Dion- no, she had to remember it was Ultra Magnus now, wasn't it?- had onlined three cycles before her; his injuries and subsequent upgrades hadn't been as severe as hers. That had been five cycles ago now, and since the disastrous conversation between them this was the first time he'd sought her presence._

"_What's it like?" He asked curiously, watching her pace and get used to her new centre of balance._

"_What's what like?" she echoed, truthfully not feeling up for his questions. "The Matrix? The renaming, the new frame? What?"_

"_All of the above," he said. Dion would have made a joke of it, but she couldn't see much of her old friend in this new body. She wondered if it would be the same for her, a complete personality reboot._

"_It's-" she broke off, not knowing what to say. "It hasn't really sunk in yet. Call me Aurora Pax and I'll still answer to it." It was like a strut snapping, and the words came flying out. "I know nothing about weapons or tactics, and suddenly because of a shiny crystal these people expect me to lead them into battle? I don't know how to fight outside of a bar brawl, I don't know what my new frame is capable of or how to fire a gun or _anything_ about waging a war!"_

"_Calm down!" Ultra Magnus was suddenly there in front of her, hands reaching up to clasp her shoulders. She was even taller now; possibly the tallest femme he'd ever seen. "You were chosen for this, you were _meant_ to do this. Even if you don't have faith in yourself, I have faith in you."_

_She looked at him, really looked at him until he had to look away. He couldn't meet the sadness in her optics. "I don't even have my new name yet. I'm no longer Aurora Pax, but I can't sense the new name the Matrix has designated me. What kind of leader will I be if I can't even sense my own _name_ out of the slagging thing?"_

_He slapped her, metal clanging as his hand struck her face plate. "_I _have faith in you," he repeated. "Are you done with your self-pity? Stop doubting yourself; you were chosen by Primus Almighty to help our people through a war, and I don't think Primus makes mistakes of this magnitude. I _know_ this isn't a mistake." He stared her down, forcing her to see the sincerity of his words. "Now, what do I call you?"_

_She tried one last time for him, switching off her optics and focussing on the 'slagging' crystal that slotted in beneath her spark casing. With no small amount of bravado, she imagined herself in the only fighting scenario she could imagine- a bar brawl, her against the leader of- against Megatron. Part of her new identity was letting go of her blindness, she decided then and there. She was meant to show him the error of his ways and if she could, she would save him. _

_She knew she wouldn't be able to save him. It would come down to war, she knew. The rebellion had already begun, she had to stop it, if she-_

_No. No if. She had to stop it. She would fight to save what was left of her people, and for their way of life. She would crush this rebellion if she had to, kill every last one of them-_

_-would she? Could she kill even Megatron, if it meant saving her people?-_

_-could she?_

_War shouldn't be the answer. War should be the last resort. _

_But she would not let her people be slaughtered because they wouldn't pick up a weapon. And if some of them _couldn't_ fight, she would fight for them. _

_She could. It killed off a little more of her previous self, but she could, if it came down to it._

_She had a lot to learn. There was no other way, and she had been reborn on the cusp of a war she couldn't escape. Reborn to lead and to finish this war through any means necessary._

_And like that, she heard what the Matrix had been whispering to her for three cycles. It was static suddenly becoming clear, the voice of the stars murmuring in her audio._

Arise, Bellona Prime. Cybertron has need of you.

_Bellona. Bellona Prime, named for the war she was reborn to fight._

_She powered up her optics and smiled at her friend. "I am Bellona Prime," she announced, somewhat shakily._

"_Bellona Prime?" He considered the name before smiling back at her. "It becomes you, more than peace ever did."_

_She blinked, uncomfortable with the insinuation. "You don't think I was suited to my previous designation? My previous frame?" Her comfort in her own self had been the main thing she prided herself on, a frag-the-planet to those who couldn't accept her._

"_No!" he hurried to reassure her. "That's not it at all. It's more like- Aurora Pax was you, wholly and undeniably. But until this," he gestured at the both of them, "until now, she didn't know that a part of her was missing."_

"_Is that how it is for you?" she asked icily, wanting to share her discomfort."You're suddenly okay with onlining in a whole new world? Ultra Magnus, beyond the great, so superior to what you used to be that you can forget him in a heartbeat?"_

"_Dion is- Dion was-" he broke off this time, she was viciously pleased to see. Then he visibly strengthened his resolve, and started again with a surer voice. "I've been thinking about this: Dion is but a part of me. He's the part that will keep me positive in the dark cycles of war that we both know are coming. He's the shoulder I hope you know you can lean on should you need to. But he is not my spark. He is a set of black and white memories- stark, untouched by emotions. Like they belonged to someone else, and I got them through a data swap. Dion offlined for good in Central City. Aurora Pax should be allowed that rest also."_

_He grabbed her hands this time and held them tightly. "You are our _Prime_, Bellona. Prove to us that the choice was correct."_

_She cast her optics to the floor, thinking over what he said. When she raised them again, her gaze was clearer._

"_If I do this- I can't keep any part of her in me. I must lead our people against her ex-lover and it is likely that I will face him in battle at some point. Di- Ultra Magnus, if I do this, I can't guarantee what will happen. I can't guarantee that I won't freeze up the first time I kill someone, or the first time one of my people dies."_

"_But you can learn," he replied. "Become what you are meant to be, Bellona Prime. Become all of yourself."_

_There was a long silence that she finally broke with a whisper. "I am Bellona Prime." Another pause. "I will fight my people, and I will fight to save them. I _am_ Bellona Prime," she repeated, surer this time, "and I am become War._

"_And I will learn, and I will fight, and maybe one day- I will finish it. This I swear to you, Primus. You did not choose in error."_

_She held out a hand to Ultra Magnus. He clasped her wrist instead in a warrior's grip._

_She returned his gesture, folding her hand around the delicate components and gripping firmly._

___When she first onlined in this frame, everything had felt too big, too slow, too bulky. _Like it had immediately that fourth time, so many vorns ago now, her CPU now lit up with messages of right-right-this-is-right.

* * *

I am Bellona Prime, and I am become War.

* * *

Fini.

The femme/mech difference I based on hormonal differences between humans- they react differently to situations, more or less emotionally depending entirely on their gender. Then there are those within each gender who have different balances to the 'norm' and so react in an entirely different fashion. It's something quite fascinating to me.

I would love to know what you honestly thought of this, if you made it this far. My thanks for reading, regardless.


End file.
